


Paradise Calling

by ForGreaterEffect



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Assisted Suicide, Atheism, Bloodhound is Very Old School, Candles, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends, Fear of Death, Forehead Kisses, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Hurt/Comfort, Tags Contain Spoilers, Talk of Life After Death, Terminal Illnesses, They Have Something a Little More Than a Platonic Relationship, for this fic, just a little bit, prayers, talk of religion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:21:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23529841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForGreaterEffect/pseuds/ForGreaterEffect
Summary: You have a problem that only a certain Legend can help with.
Relationships: Bloodhound (Apex Legends)/Reader
Comments: 17
Kudos: 96





	1. Call and Answer

**Author's Note:**

> I'm warning you this is a sad fic. Please don't read if you are uncomfortable with what is tagged. If you don't want the fic spoiled but are uncomfortable with a lot of things please read the tags anyway.
> 
> This is the first fic that I've ever posted so constructive criticism is appreciated. If you find typos please let me know.

It’s painful to move. There’s tightness in your chest, and pain raking claws of agony up your spine. It had only been a matter of time before the end came. But now it is here.

It’s nighttime, the other legends are in their quarters, either sleeping or relaxing. Making it to your door is not an easy task but you can’t bear this pain anymore, you need help.

The hallway is quiet, the door next to yours is Gibraltar’s and across the hall is Bangalore’s. Both are dark underneath the door but you can hear faint snoring from the Shielded Fortress’ room.

Moving along you pass Crypto and Wattson’s quarters. There is a faint glow of light from under Crypto’s door and the clacking of keys punctuating the silence, from Wattson’s you faintly hear classical music playing, a lullaby perhaps. You will miss the two of them, so full of life and so young with bright futures ahead of the two young prodigy’s.

Wraith’s room is silent and you have a reasonable hunch to say that she isn’t even in there. No one knows where she goes at night but you also have another hunch that Mirage is the only one privy to that information.

Speaking of the Holographic Trickster, there’s faint guitar music coming from his door and the barely-there sound of someone crying. You know his mother’s health has been weighing on him recently, you had been one of the few people he actually confided in from time to time.

You hate the idea of leaving him behind with even fewer people to talk to and yet another name to add to the ever-growing list of people that he’s lost, but it can’t be helped. A bolt of pain electrifies your spine and you have to muffle a wail of pain. It nearly brings you to your knees as you brace yourself against the wall between Elliot and Ajay’s rooms.

Lifeline and Pathfinder bunk across the hall from each other. These two rooms are dark as well, Path needs time at night to recharge, and Lifeline loves her beauty sleep seeing as she spends so much of her free time organizing relief work when she’s not participating in the games. She’s privy to your condition, Pathfinder as well. It just didn’t seem right to go and die without letting poor Path at least know a little of what was up with you.

Lifeline had tried to help you, but the condition was terminal, and participating in the Apex games was one of your last wishes, so she helped in any way she could convincing the officials to let you onto the roster.

Half of the legends didn’t know, the only ones privy being Ajay, Alexander, Pathfinder, Revenant, Tae Joon, and Bloth. Some you told after knowing them for a bit like, Bloth, Pathfinder and Ajay. Others found out on accident, Revenant, Alexander, and Tae Joon.

Tae found out not necessarily on accident but while he was hacking the Apex database. When he confronted you about your condition you made him swear not to tell anyone lest you blab about him as well.

Next to Pathfinder’s room is Revenant’s. Despite his acerbic exterior, you have a certain fondness for the simulacra, he pulls no punches and says exactly what he means and exactly what he thinks. He knows about your condition because you made a special request, which was actually you cashing in a favor he owed you.

You knew of his dilemma, the memories that overlapped and conflicted with each other. How every time he looked into a mirror or reflective surface he saw whoever Hammond programmed him to see. You helped him reconcile the trauma, and when he denied it, you made him, forced him almost, to understand that despite this new mechanical body, he could still experience trauma.

The deal you made with him was simple, when you died he would personally make sure that your body and data was properly disposed of, that way nothing like what had happened to him could happen to you. He would do so with the help of Crypto who would purge every trace of you from the Apex database.

You would certainly miss the assassin, his crude wit and withering humor. You would never know it from talking to him once or twice or even in passing. There was many a time you would find him in secluded places and you’d sit and talk with him for a spell. He was never easy to talk to, and getting any sort of answer from him was always a battle but he did talk to you.

You felt bad for him too. When you went he’d lose possibly the only person he’d ever divulged so much to. You just hoped that the progress that you’d made with him during your time at Apex would remain and he could move on.

Further down when you pass Octane’s room you hear the loud music and roaring sound effects of the video games that he enjoys so much. You will miss him pestering you to play despite not being very good at the games he tried to teach you.

The next door is Caustic’s.

Surprisingly it’s open, a strange sight as normally the man is locked in and working until odd hours of the night when he’s been particularly inspired by some newfound formula. The room is brightly lit, the harsh white light of LED strips leaving little to no shadows in the room. It’s no wonder the man is always tired and irritable. The next strike of pain that bolts through you does send you to your knees. The commotion startles the man in the room who looks over from a stack of papers. Seeing it’s you he moves around his desk to your side. The look he gives you as he helps you to your feet is not one of pity, he’s an intelligent man, cruel and remorseless at times, and the look he gives you is a knowing one, he knows this is your end.

The next strike of pain in your chest sends tears streaking your cheeks, crumbling in Alexander’s hands.

You shake your head at his offer to take you to Lifeline or the medbay. You know it’s a nicety, he knows you’ll refuse any offer for help to prolong this pain.

Your breath comes in soft gasps, it feels like your chest is full of glass. Sweat beads at your brow and your heart flutters wildly in your chest.

He makes a remark about your will to fight which makes you laugh bitterly. The movement, however, sends agony through your torso and your spine contracts bending you backwards in a near perfect arch. When it passes you slump against this man, grasping his gloved wrist for dear life, like somehow clinging to him is going to solve your problems.

He grasps you around the chest hauling you up against him as he walks you further down the hall to your end goal.

He knows your aims. The two of you often enjoyed coffee in the morning together discussing the fleeting nature of life and what the end would be like, specifically how you wished to go once your time came. What you would do when your end neared.

He had no such wishes for his end, no planned out requests for when he died. He was more interested in death itself than actually dying.

It was interesting to understand the world through the eyes of a man who did not believe in the beyond, according to him everything had a rational explanation. Plus, he was easy to talk to when you knew how to talk to him. He didn’t appreciate idle chatter and preferred the straightforward conveyance of information. You, however, believed in a maker and paradise after death. After all, if you got to the end and there truly was nothing at least you had lived with the comfort of the possibility.

The walk by his side is not long, you’re just trying to make it to the last door in the hall. Bloodhound’s room.

Alexander knocks for you, and it’s barely moments before the door opens, revealing hound still dressed in full gear. The inside of the room is lit by candles, very old fashioned but it creates a beautiful atmosphere.

The tracker makes eye contact with the trapper who nods.

A tremendous bolt of pain has you falling to your knees with a barely muffled cry of pain. You’re gasping breaths clutching at your chest, clawing at the skin there, the pain is getting to be too much.

Two sets of hands grasp at you lifting you up and soon the hunter is taking possession of you from the trapper. You squeeze Alex’s hand one last time before Bloodhound shuts the door.

You’re settled in the corner of the room in a nest of furs and pelts. The bunk in the room is covered in weapons and hunting implements. You know that Bloth prefers to sleep on the floor rather than a traditional mattress. They stay near you preparing a few things in the room, blowing out a few of the many candles in the room and double-checking that the door is locked tight before coming back to you.

The circumstances of your relationship are laughable. You’re not romantically involved in the least, not sexually that is, the bond you share is that of one soul being made of two halves, but when you two first met, neither of you could stand the presence of the other. Your spiritual beliefs often had the two of you bickering if left together for an extended period of time. Bloth believed in the Allfather and the gods that reigned alongside their deity. You believed in one singular Maker, an entity that was both creator and creation, God and Nature as one being.

It wasn’t until Hound found you praying in the forest that they realized your shared spirituality was what united the two of you instead of segregated you. From then on the two of you often shared each other’s company, hunting and foraging in the forests of different planets during the off-seasons of the games. Your time together only served to hone your respective skills and the two of you taught each other many things.

Your secret condition was made known to Bloodhound only after a life-threatening encounter on a distant planet. You told them everything about your predicament and relatively how long you had left in this world. You divulged your wish that they be the one to deliver you unto paradise when the time came, and they dutifully agreed.

Over time you learned the circumstances surrounding Bloth’s secrecy and desire for extreme privacy, it was information that you promised them you would take with you to the grave.

And now the time has come.

By this time Bloth has removed most of the gear covering their face and lain down in the furs with you. You grasp their hand and chat for a bit, it’s not very long though as the next pang that’s moves through you has you blacking out. Bloth informs you that you’ve begun to seize in between your periods of lucidity. The information brings tears to your eyes. You’ve known this day would come for so long, and you had promised yourself that you were ready. But now faced with what you are being forced to leave behind tears track down your face.

The hunter hushes you and murmurs a prayer to the Allfather as they move to stand up. They move away, going to a box nestled up on a shelf near some very old books and Artur’s perch. From the box, they pull an ornate leather sheath, inside of which you know is an incredibly sharp blade. You’ve seen Hound sharpening that blade quite often and they never told you what it was for but now it all makes sense.

The silver blade glints brightly in the candlelight. The blade itself is about seven inches long, the handle is some type of bone or antler and inlaid with abalone.

They settle back down next to you, blade in hand. The pain in your body has grown considerably and you can feel your heart threatening to give out. Breathing is becoming nearly impossible, and focusing on the hunter is getting more and more difficult by the second.

They tell you that you won’t feel a thing. It will be quick and painless as they have said so many times before and you trust them wholly.

You’re gathered into their arms and made to rest propped against their chest, your head beneath their chin.

Your shirt is lifted and you feel Bloth’s deft fingers counting along your ribs before a soothing hand smoothes over your side.

You tell them that you will await them in paradise. You tell them not to miss you too much. That there is nowhere in this life or the next that you will not be by their side, that they will never be alone even when you’re gone.

The blade sinks in and you don’t even realize until you begin to feel faint in their hold.

You hear them murmuring another prayer to the Allfather.

There are tears in their eyes that track down their cheeks. They promise to find you in paradise, then at least they will know which of the two of you were right about God.

You want to laugh but you are fading too fast and the last you remember of them is the tears in their eyes and the soft kiss they press between your brows.


	2. After the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone handles loss differently. This is my take on how some of the legends might handle the news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this has taken so long! Please forgive me!
> 
> I bothered my beta super late so I could get this out sooner, sorry to them!

It’s very early in the morning when Bloodhound informs the other legends of one of their own passing on.

The ones that don’t know think it’s a gross joke. When did Hound become such a sadist? 

At least until the others confirm the information. 

Even for the legends with prior knowledge, this is a tough pill to swallow.

Hound allows the others to see the body before it’s taken care of. Some agree to see, others don’t. They don’t want to remember you like that, they’d rather remember you as you were.

Hound has the body laid out amongst the pelts in the corner of their room and there’s little to no blood on the floor. Either it’s already been cleaned or the wound was just that well placed. The knife is gone, stored back in its box up on the shelf and the wound in your side has already been sealed. 

The hunter kneels by the body, almost protectively when other legends come to see. “This is what they wanted.” They mutter quietly adjusting the pelts around the body. It’s the only explanation given when the legends that didn’t know come to see.

When Ajay sees the body, tears fall immediately. She had known this day was coming, she knew about your wishes, knew the way that you wanted to go, knew that Bloodhound would be the one to do it. But this is reality.

This is so much more vivid, it’s so visceral to see the body there, your body, still and quiet. It’s jarring to realize that you’ll never laugh again, never sass her again, you’ll never spend late nights in the common room with the others joking and telling old stories anymore. Ajay has dealt with death before, violent and messy, out on the field of battle, during the war in the hellscape that is a war zone. She knows what it’s like to lose patients, bleeding out too soon, having taken too much damage, too many bullet holes, heart rates dropping too fast. This is different. It’s easy to move on after battling tooth and nail to save a life. This is so different.

When Ajay looks at you lying there she feels a cold ache in her hands, your life was like sand through her fingers.

This was a silent fight, a white flag waved before weapons were lifted. No bullets left barrels, no swords clashed. There was nothing that anyone could have done, and that makes the loss so much more painful. 

\---

Pathfinder isn’t sure what to think. You look fine. There’s nothing leaking. Nothing looks damaged. You look like you’ll stand up and laugh any moment and say this is all a joke that’s not very funny, or at least one he just can’t comprehend. He’s never seen a dead body before and his participation in the games has only served to skew his conception of the permanence of death. He’s still waiting for a death box to appear in place of your body and for you to come running in fresh from the respawn center. 

There’s something conflicting running through his processor. You look fine but you’re dead. Dead. Terminated. Not coming back. Ever. The finality is lost on him.

\---

Bangalore doesn’t go to see the body, she’s seen enough death for a lifetime, several even. Instead she sits in her room with a box she pulled from under her bed. It’s an old, beaten up lock box, the key to which hangs around her neck on the same chain as her dog tags. The corners are pushed in and old green paint is flaking and peeling off of a large majority of the metal. The key needs to be forced in a little. The locking mechanism is old and finicky but it still works and the lid pops with a reluctant squeal of rusty hinges. Inside is a pile of dog tags. Some are bent, broken, scratched up, shot through, and resting on top of them is a beaten and worn journal with a bullet hole of its own through the bottom corner near the spine. Flipping the book open, the pages are covered top to bottom in names. 

Anita, knows loss like an old friend, albeit an unwelcome one. 

The soldier grabs a pen and flips to a page with open space before scrawling your name amongst those of past comrades. She sits for a moment, flipping through the pages, remembering the people these names commemorate. There are so many names here, it’s a wonder that she managed to find the time to write all of these down between firefights, or how she even managed to remember so many for when she got back to camp. But they’re all here.

It’s easy to cope with death when you have to keep moving, keep fighting for your life. Otherwise it’s your name that gets added to the list, your dog tags stacking the pile higher. The book closes with a soft thump, the sound of pages worn thin and smooth on the edges resting smoothly back against each other. The box is locked again and pushed back beneath Anita’s bunk.

\---

Gibraltar kneels near Bloodhound when he goes to see the body. A large hand rests on their shoulder. “It is the belief of my people, that when someone close to you passes on they might visit you for a few days.”

The fortress says a few things for you, praying that you find your way into the beyond with no trouble before patting Bloth on the shoulder again, standing to leave.

Gibraltar returns to his room to sit on his bed before pulling out his phone to make a call. The line rings twice before it picks up. “‘koa?” A sleepy voice questions. Gibraltar sighs softly into the receiver, nodding before realizing the person on the other end can’t see him. “Yeah babe it’s me.” There’s a shuffling on the other end of the line, the phone getting jostled around. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?” The sleep is bleeding out of the other person’s voice with every second. Makoa sighs again trying to blink back tears. “We lost a legend today Kai, and I just- I just needed to talk.” There’s a pause of silence on the line. “Makoa, I’m sorry. Who was it?” The fortress sits for a moment. “It’s was the newbie. There was something wrong with them; I think they were sick. I just needed to hear your voice.” 

There’s a rustling on the other end, the sound of a lamp being switched on. “Did you know them well?” 

What is it to know someone well? How can you know so much about a person and so little? Makoa nods again and shrugs. “I guess… I don’t know, you can only know so much, y’know? I didn’t even know they were sick, what kind of friend does that make me?” There’s a lump in his throat, a sore spot in his chest. Tears threaten to fall.

“ ’koa…, you know just as well as I do that if they wanted you to know they would have told you. Not everyone is okay with letting the world know about things like this. You’re the best kind of friend anyone could ask for and I’m sure they loved knowing you and getting to know you.”

“But how can I call myself a friend if they weren’t comfortable enough to open up about this to me?” The fortress is fighting tears at this point. A large paw of a hand swiping at his eyes as his face heats.

“Makoa, it was because you were their friend that they didn’t tell you. I’m sure they wanted every last moment with you and the others to be the best it could be despite all of this.”

The tears fall despite his best efforts.

\---

Wraith is nowhere to be found as usual. She doesn’t go to see the body. Instead she watches from within the void, that’s where she lets the tears fall. She didn’t know you very well, hardly at all really. 

You had passed on before your life had really gotten any momentum. Wraith still had so much that she needed to know about her life, about life in general. Would she ever know everything about herself? Would she die before then? In the meantime, maybe it would be better to get to know some of the people around her. The ones who really care like you had.

Later, during a match, in the void, she sees you. In another lifetime, one wherein you aren’t sick. It takes everything in her not to step out into that reality and stay, get to know you, and learn everything about you that she doesn’t know about herself.

\---

Elliot can’t look at you for more than a moment. The façade shatters and the fear he felt when his brothers didn’t come home returns like a tidal wave. He’s back in his room, with the door locked and blinds shuttered before he realizes it.

Why hadn’t you told him? Did you not trust him? He can’t imagine how hard this must have been to keep to yourself. How could you have smiled and laughed the way you did? How did you listen to him cry and complain about every little thing that went wrong for him? 

How had he made it so far? It wasn’t fair. To his brothers. To his mother. To you. 

It wasn’t fair that vain, and popularity obsessed, Elliot got to stay here with his friends and you had to go. It was his brothers that should have still been here with his mom taking care of her and each other. 

Look at him - driven by vanity, always the center of attention. Why was he the one who got to stay?

When he looks around his room, all Elliot sees is himself; pictures, drawings, fan mail, promo merch, figures, posters and the like all plastering his walls and covering his shelves. This room is full of him, just like he is. Maybe if he hadn’t been so self-absorbed you would have told him. Maybe if he hadn’t been so selfish and inconsiderate you wouldn’t have been so alone in the end.

\---

Crypto spends the day of your passing in his room, ensuring that the Respawn system is purged of every single piece of evidence of your existence, just like you asked. It isn’t easy, not in the slightest. He has to work quickly before the administrators realize what is happening to their system and he gets locked out completely. 

When it’s done, he sits back from his desk. He thinks about Mila. Where is she? Is she okay? With all of the personal connections that he’s made here as a Legend, it’s becoming more and more difficult to stay focused the way that he needs to. On that things he needs to be focused on. He has priorities, he knows what he needs to do, who he’s going after. But are these priorities the right ones?

\---

Octavio thinks it’s stupid. Why would you want to die? Part of him wants to know what happened. What did you have? He’s pretty sure there’s something his family could have manufactured if you had just let him know, he had the connections, maybe something experimental that might have worked, there had to have been strings he could have pulled. You could have stuck around longer, why ask Hound to do something like that. It was stupid. It’s a stupid idea in his mind. 

When Ajay tells him about the kind of pain that you were in, the kind of suffering that you were enduring on a day to day basis, it only makes things slightly better.

“ ‘tavi, they knew. They knew they were dying. There was nothing that could have been done. I checked. I looked everywhere for something that would have helped. The most that I could do was help them maintain a good quality of life, but even that could only last for so long.”

“That’s dumb, no entiendo por qué habrían querido morir así.” He shakes his head, scarred hands running through his dark hair. “They could have just kept trying.”

Ajay knows what has Octavio so worked up. “ ‘tavi, they were hurting the same way that Navi was. You wouldn’t want them to suffer like that would you?” At the mention of his childhood pet Octavio’s gaze softens. 

He had loved that bunny, but when it got old and life became painful for it he did what he had to do. Ever since he had to have Navi put down, he had never forgiven himself, holding onto the belief that there was always a way, always something he hadn’t yet heard of that he could have done the keep his beloved pet alive and well.

“No Che, I wouldn’t.”

\---

Natalie and Alexander come to see you together. The static defender did not want to come alone. It was still too soon after her father’s death. 

Alex’s hand rests gently on her shoulder as she kneels near you. Her hand pets at your head, her shoulders shaking with sobs as she tries to take in the stillness of your body. It’s such a jarring experience seeing you here on the floor of Hound’s room.

She thought that after seeing the body of her father she would be ready for anything. Surely, that would be the hardest thing she’d ever have to experience, but this is so much more difficult than she expected. 

Your body is cold where it rests nestled in the furs, and your skin is has turned a much paler version of its natural hue. Your lashes stand out so much darker against your cheeks now, you look like a sleeping character from a time-lost fable. 

“They look so peaceful like this, papá looked the same when he…” A sob racks Natalie’s body and suddenly she’s standing and backing up into Alexander who pulls her into his side. The young woman burrows her face into the man’s shoulder shuddering as she cries. 

“Shhh. They’re much better off now. This way there is no more suffering.” Alex reasons, rubbing a hand across Natalie’s shoulders.

The man says a few things for you. It’s bizarre to hear such sentiment from the toxic trapper, but under the veneer of the apex games he is still just a man. 

The two leave the room and head to the lounge for a warm drink, sitting across from each other in a booth. Natalie’s eyes are red-rimmed and her nose is pink, her cheeks are flushed from crying. Her hands clasp around a warm cup of hot chocolate, watching as the foam dissipates. 

Caustic has one large hand gripping a cup of black coffee, the other combing through his hair. He sighs as he watches Natalie carefully. Despite being a formidable legend in the ring, she’s still delicate and very young. Taking a sip of coffee Alex cards a hand through his beard.

“These kinds of things are never easy, Natalie, and with the recent passing of your father, more so.” Comfort is not something he’s very good at, but after the passing of Lúc Paqette, Nox set to make sure that the girl that he had known since she was a young child was looked after. It was what her father would have wanted. 

“Yes, Dr. Caustic. It is just that I thought it would be easier this time. After papá, and of course mamá, I thought it would get easier, but I was mistaken. It feels so much more difficult now, and yet I have only known them for such a short time. How is it possible to feel so much for someone you’ve known for such a short span of time? I do not understand.” Natalie takes a dainty sip of the drink in her hands, shaking her head and giving a heavy sigh.

“While I cannot say much for familiarity between friends; humans are social in nature,” Alex starts, pausing as he seems to search for the right thing to say. “It’s only natural that you would grow attached despite the brevity of your relationship. Your father was a good friend of mine despite the sparse and brief encounters that we had.” He takes a breath and a short swig of his drink. “They were kind and understanding, caring beyond a normal capacity, and I do say these things with all sincerity. Even I myself had a difficult time maintaining my distance from them more often than not. Their, aura, if you will, was very appealing to be around.” 

Natalie nods rubbing at an imaginary spot on the table. “They were a wonderful, magnificent person. I am very sad that they are gone.” She falters for a moment, thinking for a bit. “Dr. Caustic…” Natalie knows what she wants to ask but isn’t sure how to phrase it. She doesn’t want to sound like a fool in front of a man that she regards so highly. “I know that you do not believe in a heaven or anything like that, but do you think they are okay? Papá did not believe in these kinds of things and I’m not sure that I do either but I cannot help but feel a... desire to know that they are okay.”

The man across from her nods and gives another sigh, swirling his already cold coffee in its cup. “Death is an end. To suffering, disease, anger, sadness. I believe in the finality of it, and I… take comfort in the idea that once we die that is in fact the end. Not that we are punished in some sort of hell for all the wrongs that we’ve done indefinitely. Nor that we are praised in a Heaven for our piety and good deeds. However, I do understand the appeal of placing one’s faith in a sort of paradise after death and in a kind of omniscient deity that guides your life. If I did believe in such a thing, I think that, yes, they are well and happy and in a much better place.”

The young girl nods with a sweet smile on her face. “Yes, I believe that too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you waiting for Revenant and Bloodhound; Soon.
> 
> As always, please let me know what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are very much appreciated but if you are like me and are uncomfortable leaving them then just hit the kudos, or don't, I cannot control you, thanks.


End file.
